Because I Love You
by mikamilk
Summary: They just loved each other, that was all. Then what brought them to drift away from each other so? What will happen when they must face each other again, as foes? Yao/Kiku China/Japan. Rated T for some language and violence.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**Prologue**

The hollow sound of the heavy door closing echoed loudly throughout the empty house, resonating off the walls and the high ceilings. When the deafening sound died away, it left behind a deafening silence in its' place. A silence so dense with the sense of nothingness, that it could provoke one into losing one's sanity.

And losing control was exactly what happened to Wang Yao. He was just barely able to keep himself together as his knees hit the hard floor, his hands thrown forward. Palms pressed down into the bamboo flooring, his fingers clawing the wood. White fury blazed in his fiery eyes and he gritted his teeth as his entire body shook viciously. For a long moment, Yao remained there on the floor of the oversized room, taking large, ragged breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. Again, the room echoed with every intake of air and every exhalation. The sound filled Yao's ears and when he thought his ears would split from the awful ringing, he threw his head back, squeezing his eyes closed and released a loud shout, the roar ripping from his lungs into the empty air.

The silence was still there. All at once, the anger Yao had felt dwindled and now he only registered a deep feeling of grief and loss in his torn heart. Strength literally bled from the fresh wound on his back, rapidly sucking away his energy. Hanging his head, Yao opened his eyes a fraction, his vision blurred from the tears which were filling his eyes and descending to the floor. Everywhere he looked he could see a ghost, a ghost of someone who was now gone. Everything he touched, the air he breathed, the scents left behind, it was all a cruel reminder of the absence of the one so special and so precious to him. The one he loved.

Honda Kiku was gone.

Overwhelmed with disbelief, denial and detriment, Yao cried out again, though this time his voice was much weaker as though he were squeezing out the last drops of energy that were left inside.

"Why Kiku? _Why?_"

There was no one there to give him any answers. He couldn't understand. He didn't _want _to understand. All Yao wished was for Kiku to be back with him again right here beside him, then everything would be okay. It would all go back to the way they had been. The way they had been before Kiku…

"No, no…"

Yao's forehead now rested against the bamboo flooring. Blood drenched his clothes, weighing them down, irritating the gaping gash which ran from his left shoulder all the way down to his right hipbone. The mark would most definitely scar his skin and would become a stigma, a stain of shame, dishonour and infamy—_Kiku's _stain, not his.

Because it was Kiku who was the betrayer, wasn't it?

"No, no…"

Whispering the word repeatedly to himself, Yao clenched his fists and heaved his body up. The long, dark strands of his hair fell over his eyes like a veil, the roots moist with perspiration. Right now, more than anything at all, Yao just wanted to go after Kiku and bring him back. Then he could hold Kiku close again. He would never let him go.

But, Yao knew that it was too late for that. Kiku was gone. Maybe he had been gone long ago and Yao just hadn't noticed. Even if he had been physically present, was it possible that his heart had long left this place?

"No, no…"

Yao's head was beginning to fog from exhaustion and pain. Left, unable to figure anything out, unable to take any action. He might as well treat his wound since it was screaming for attention, though he cared little for it. Honestly, it was the least of his worries now.

However, with nothing else to do, Yao lifted a shaky hand and pushed his hair out of his face. It was then that his eyes caught sight of a shadow, dark against the light illuminating from the lanterns placed in the corners of the room. It took a moment for Yao to recognise what it was in his state of fatigue. It was…

A gasp escaped Yao's lips. Instantly, all sense of pain was forgotten and Yao leaped forward, staggering toward the table which stood in the centre of the room. His eyes widened as he drew his face closer to the object sitting atop the table.

There, stood a magnificent vase spilling with hydrangeas. The beauty of the flowers with their many petals was so great that they appeared to almost melt in Yao's eyes. Lowering his gaze to the vase, Yao's breath was stolen at the sight of chrysanthemums, floating amongst a flurry of jade leaves painted exquisitely against the transparent porcelain of the vase. Due to the transparency of the vase, the water inside was visible through the porcelain, making it as though Yao were looking upon a tiny, glistening river. Who could have possibly produced something so perfect, so…magical?

Yao froze. Yao only knew one person who painted like this. Anger began to boil again, robbing Yao temporarily of the joy he had gained from the flowers and the artwork. His first thought, driven by the anger he was experiencing, was to rip the flowers to shreds and smash the vase apart into millions of shards. But as he stared down at the hydrangeas a thought crossed his mind. Hydrangeas, hydrangeas…

Hydrangeas, a symbol of gratitude, enlightenment and love.

Against his initial intentions, Yao could not bring himself to harm the vase of flowers before him. Tears continued to slide down Yao's face and the shimmering droplets fell into the vase and vanished into the water inside. Tenderly, Yao wrapped his fingers around the rounded surface of the vase. This was a gift, Yao realised, a gift from him. From his dear, beloved Kiku.

Then why, why had this all happened?

"_Kiku!_"

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**NOTE: **Hi! So, after writing some AsaKiku fics, I really wanted to write a ChuNi again! There's been no actual Kiku in the prologue but lots of him to come in the next chapters!

Was the prologue okay? I hope you enjoyed it!


	2. I

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**I.**

It had happened again. The meeting, which had commenced the previous evening, had carried over to mid-morning of the next day, much to a certain Chinese man's dismay. But, it wasn't as though he hadn't suspected this would be the case since such occurrences were far from what could be called rare.

"Politics, politics, politics-aru."

With another sigh and a roll of his stiff shoulders, China continued through the bamboo forest on his way back to his house. Due to disagreement and general disorganisation amongst his bosses, Yao had found himself trapped in a conference room overnight and had finally been released to go home for some much needed rest. Dully, Yao brooded on how his days were always filled with 'politics'. He attended meetings where he would have to face those whom he—if bluntly put—would rather not, if he had a choice. All that seemed to ever be accomplished in these meetings were failed attempts of a mature debate that somehow always disintegrated into cringeworthy acts of aggravated assault and an unhealthy onslaught of vulgar language. In addition, China would frequently be dispatched to foreign lands to contend in global warfare, as fighting for the state was part of his job. How long had he been at this for? Four thousand years? Five thousand? China wasn't sure—it didn't matter. All that mattered was that his joints ached from having to bare so much responsibility and his ears hurt from all the yelling and arguing. How nice it would be to close his eyes and not have to think about such matters for even just a moment.

"Politics, politics, politics-aru."

Twigs crunched under his feet and Yao felt a gnawing at his stomach, a growl notifying him of his unsatisfied hunger. As soon as he arrived home he would cook himself up a warm meal, Yao decided. Now with something to look forward to, he picked up his pace a little, humming softly to himself.

Time seemed to pass more quickly when he thought over the various dishes he might desire for his late breakfast. His cooking was something Yao took pride in, having uncovered the many secrets which nestled in the flavours of the Eight Cuisines of China. How he would love for someone to appreciate it with him. Yao hesitated midstride, a small frown appearing on his lips. Again, he was to cook for himself and eat alone. Why couldn't there be someone he could share a good meal with? Enjoy a pot of jasmine tea with? The only times he had company during meals, there was always an underlying motive such as speeding along a potential entente or to show off the country's wealth to others in hopes of a good deal in trade. In any case, Yao couldn't recall the last time he had allowed himself to completely let himself go. If only there was someone who he could talk freely to purely for pleasure alone without any devious ulterior motive. But no, he had no one, so he would just have to accept it and drink it down.

"Aiyaa-aru…"

As though an ethereal being had heard his troubled musings, something shifted in such a way that Yao would no longer view the world as he had. Someone like no other he had known was introduced into his life. And Yao happened to come across that person right there in the bamboo forest.

"Who's that-aru?" In between the gaps of the tall trees surrounding him, Yao caught sight of a small childlike figure sitting in the grass. Curiosity coaxing him to approach the figure he had found, Yao's feet carried him away from the main trail to a small clearing. Immediately the boy sensed Yao's presence and turned his head. Their eyes met directly. One glance was all China needed to know the boy was, like himself, a Nation. With this discovery came a jolt of excitement, evident in Yao's brightened eyes.

"You must be a new Nation-aru!" Yao exclaimed, looking down upon the small boy. The rich black of the boy's hair, the colour of newly ground ink on an inkstone, his large, glassy eyes and smoothly rounded cheeks brought to mind a cub panda in Yao's mind. He was simply charming and it took some will power on Yao's half to restrain himself from picking the boy up into his arms. Instead, Yao crouched down to be at eye-level with the boy, saying, "Hello-aru, I am Yao. What is your name?"

"I am Japan," the boy replied simply. His eyes stared deep into Yao's, searchingly. After a moment, he nodded to himself. "Oh, you must be China-san."

"Yes-aru," Yao confirmed, placing his hands on Japan's shoulders. Was this child all by himself? If so, it would be extremely hard on him, still being so very young and small. "If you need anything-aru, I'm more than happy to help okay?"

Japan remained silent, his eyes lowered to his hands out of shyness. That was when an idea crossed Yao's mind. Sitting back on his heels, Yao took a moment to turn the idea over in his head. It wasn't something unheard of, yet was it _right_?

"Why d-don…" He himself was shocked to hear the words beginning to form on his tongue. Would he dare? Yao swallowed, ridding himself of any trace of uncertainty that remained inside himself. "Why don't you come with me? I will take care of you-aru."

This offer was not an off-handed kind of proposal, the two were both clearly aware of this. It wouldn't be just a temporary contract, meaning China wasn't going to throw Japan back onto the streets after some measure of time. No, he was going to take Japan in whole-heartedly. This was different from a treaty or colonisation or expansion. It was something more…

"Thank you."

Eyes widened as Yao took a sharp breath. Had he heard correctly? Seeing the boy give a meek bow confirmed that Japan had indeed accepted Yao's offer. Japan was now under China's care.

They were no longer on their own.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

From that day, time passed like a blink of an eye. Before China knew it, Japan had outgrown his small clothes, his cheeks and limbs losing their cherubic quality and instead hinting traces of the handsome man he would grow up to become.

A few years ago, Yao had gifted Kiku with a brush.

"Kiku, you've really improved-aru," Yao observed, leaning over the youth's shoulder to peer at the paper on which Japan was painting a rushing waterfall. The water's spray was conveyed with precision and realism, the white sun in the centre striking the water with it's blinding rays. The details in the work brought dimension and life to an ordinary piece of paper, but in the realism Yao also identified a picturesque value. "Impressive-aru! That's my Kiku-aru!"

"Oh no, my paintings are nothing compared to yours, Yao-san," Kiku insisted, overly modest as always. "But the only reason I have progressed as I have is because I have a fabulous teacher."

"Well, maybe," China said, leaning back to give Kiku space to continue painting. "But you had a inner talent to begin with-aru. Look."

Setting aside his brush momentarily, Japan diverted his focus to the older Nation. Yao was bent over a pile of Kiku's works, sifting through all of the paintings which had accumulated over the years. Finally, Yao slid a sheet out which was toward the bottom of the pile.

"Ah-huh!" China lifted the paper up, as though it were a prize. "This is still my favourite-aru. It is your best piece Kiku."

"That?" Perplexed, Kiku eyed the praised work with puzzlement. It was a simple painting he had done in his early stages of acquiring the skill. Three chrysanthemums were painted on the page without any evident complexity. Ever since he had painted this particular piece, Yao had loved it to bits, always gazing upon it with adoration. "I still do not understand why you approve of this as much as you do."

China's eyes softened, his features washed with a pensive air. "Because this is you. I see your essence in these ju hua."

Although Japan wasn't completely sure he comprehended the statement fully, he believed he at least had an intuitive feeling for what China was trying to say. For Kiku, that was good enough.

A smile of gratitude toward China appeared on Kiku's lips, warming his heart. "Thank you Yao-san," he said.

Placing the page back in the pile with the rest of Japan's paintings, Yao reached a hand out to play with Kiku's hair, causing Kiku to shrug his shoulders in his way of expressing embarrassment.

"Well, I think it's time for the real work to begin-aru," Yao declared. "Calligraphy. Are you ready?"

"Of course."

A few years later, Yao gifted Kiku with a sword.

At a fair distance away from him stood China, a dual-edged sword held firmly in his powerful hands. Even without China moving a single muscle, Japan felt fear crawling up his backbone and the hands that grasped his own sword quivered. Now, China took a step, slowly closing their distance. The way he wielded the sword was like the blade was a part of his body itself.

Yao was one with the sword and in turn, the sword was one with Yao.

"I've taught you all of the foundations and wisdom you need and you have won your right to hold the sword that lies in your hands-aru" Yao said calmly. "Kiku, focus."

Sweat had already formed at the back of his neck and he could not deny that he felt slightly giddy. Kiku closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, they were alight with determination.

"Good-aru." The Chinese man also inhaled deeply. He hoped that what he was about to teach Japan would help him in some way in the future. He hoped that through swordsmanship Kiku would gain an insight into himself, of who he was, of who he will be and of who he is.

Yao was shocked to find his hands shaking ever-so-slightly. He was afraid. Of what, he wasn't certain but somewhere in his mind he was doubting himself. Doubting the person who was about to give Kiku one of the crucial keys of what builds a strong Nation.

"Japan, when you handle a sword only one thing matters."

Dark eyes flashed; startled, stirred and inspired by the old Nation's words. The words hovered on Japan's tongue like a wisp of smoke. "One thing."

"Yes-aru. That is that you are true to yourself. Just one, solid mind is all you need. Nothing else-aru."

Be true to oneself.

One, solid mind.

"Nothing else."

Years later when neither Yao nor Kiku could tell how much time had actually passed them by, they gifted to each other.

"Yao-san…"

A soft breath tickled the Chinese man's ear and a smile of content graced his lips. The warmth of the one in his arms was so radiant, so blissful. Every touch, every breath, every moment glistened. As he pressed his lips to Kiku's forehead, indulging in the other's taste, scent and touch, Yao felt Kiku's eyelashes flutter against the skin of his face. A faint cry passed through slightly parted lips when Yao tightened his hold around Kiku's shoulders. Fingers massaged circles weakly into Yao's bare back, strands of Yao's hair slipped off his shoulders to fall on the sheets.

"Kiku…"

Capturing Kiku's lips, Yao kissed him with passion, cupping Kiku's head in his hands. Yao gifted Kiku with his love and Kiku in return gifted Yao with his.

The moments they shared were heavenly. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful as it did when they held each other close. It was as though nothing would ever change. It was as though nothing could ever split them apart.

The mountains would glow with gold in the summer, the crimson leaves would fall in autumn, soft snow would paint the world in white in the winter, the warm breeze would gently rock the blossoms in spring.

And although the sun may set, trees may shed their leaves, snow may melt and flowers may fall but their love would never die.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**Translations**

_Ju hua: _**Chrysanthemum in Mandarin**

**NOTE: **Hi~! So, as I was writing this chapter I kind of realised something which is that I might have written something like this in my other ChuNi fic 'Crane of Japan'. Well, just the part with Yao finding Kiku in the bamboo forest and everything. But I do have a completely different approach on this story, so I hope it doesn't appear to be the same or anything for those of you who were so kind and have read 'Crane of Japan'.

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! And to **you **who reviewed, _thank you_! All of you had such lovely things to say! There was a question that popped up in some of the reviews and I guess you've figured out the answer already? Yes, this is set in the Hetalia universe, _but _I'm going to be rearing away from history with some possible exceptions to references of certain historical events. But mainly, it'll be fiction based around some Hetalia settings. Confused yet? Well, I better not ramble on.

Reviews are loved and also **questions** if you've got any are absolutely fine too! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. II

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**II.**

After taking a brief moment to stretch his back, China began heading toward the door of the conference room in order to leave. He had only taken a few steps when he felt an all too familiar hand fall heavily down onto his shoulder, the long fingers gripping him just strong enough to hold him back. China was not surprised, nor did he show any effort to turn to face the person who had their hand on him.

"No." That was the only thing Yao said before shaking himself out of the other's grasp, continuing on his way to exit the room. Muffled stomps sounded against the floor with each stride he took, his eyes fixed on the door. All he wanted to do was get home and not have to worry, just even for this once.

"You can't avoid me like that Yao," China heard the voice from behind him say, the statement spoken with calmness, sounding almost friendly despite the demanding connotation. "You know I always get what I want, don't you?"

Heat rose to China's face. Halting abruptly, he dug his heels into the carpeted floor. Fingers curled into tight fists and before he could stop himself, China spun around, coming face to face with the smiling Russian.

"No-aru!" repeated Yao, seething through gritted teeth. Narrowing his eyes, he glared up at the taller, power-hungry Nation. "You just _think _you can get what you want all the time. But I won't allow that-aru!"

"Why do you want to keep him all to yourself so badly China? It isn't very nice you know, to hog." Despite the tone of his voice darkening a pitch, the unwavering smile remained firmly on Ivan's lips. "You've hidden him from all of us long enough, so the least you could do is to share, after being so selfish. Don't you think that's fair? I think it is."

"_No_-aru!" This time, Yao raised his voice with aggression. None of what the Russian said made any sense to Yao. It was just a provocation—manipulation. Yao knew this, he understood mentally but his impulse had made him react to the Russian again, instead of simply ignoring the other's remarks. Now, he had to meet the repercussions.

Instantly, China and Russia had become the centre of attention having gathered a small crowd of on-lookers. The faces in the crowd wore weary expressions but none appeared to be surprised by the conflict unravelling before their eyes.

The rucksack containing Yao's belongings fell with a thud on the floor somewhere to the side of the room. This left Yao unburdened, who then immediately assumed an opposing stance. "_I'd_ like to know why_ you're_ so interested in him-aru. What do you want to do with him anyway?" he said darkly to Ivan.

With a light-hearted laugh, Russia bent over so his face was closer to China's. "Of course, to become one with me. Nothing bad, da?"

That had done it. The hands which had been clenched by Yao's sides had now met with the Russian's jaw. Murmurs arose all around them, those still present in the room sensing an acute rise in tension in the still air—the silence before the storm.

A dull clank of Russia's pipe being positioned between his large palms was the sound which acted as the gong to begin battle. The two now had fistfuls of each other's clothing, striking out with their hands and feet, nails and teeth; one as eager as the other to bring their enemy to their knees, whatever it took.

"Take it outside," a thoroughly irritated Italian grumbled, his hands deep in his pockets. "This's stopped being funny on the fucking third time it happened."

"That's not nice, Romano." The aforementioned Italian man's younger brother, Feliciano looked on to the brawl with concern. "We should do something to stop them…"

"Don't get involved." This time it was a German who spoke, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Remember Feliciano, if _you_ do anything, I am always the one who has to clean up after you. The best is just to leave them be and get ourselves out of here—Before any of us get hurt."

Thus, the bystanders began clearing out of the room, making haste. Meanwhile, Yao had managed to lock his hands around the Russian's arm, now all he had to do was pull down and twist his wrists to send Ivan over his head—

"_What_?"

—instead of Russia flying through the air, which was according to Yao's plan, the Chinese man found himself sailing toward the floor. Ivan had gotten ahead of him, Yao realised, only too late as he felt his body landing on its side. Pain sparked through Yao's body and he bit his lip in agony. But, he was far from defeated yet.

Levering himself up onto shaking arms, China lifted his head and struck the Russian looming over him with his piercing eyes. No, he wouldn't give up, he would never do such a thing. It was to protect Japan, to keep him safe from Ivan's perilous hands. He would never give Kiku over to Ivan, ever.

Things had taken such a misfortunate turn all due to one, loud mouth of a meddlesome American. It had been some time ago that Alfred had begun spreading word to the other Nations that he had spotted a new Nation who was staying with China. The rumours circulated furiously, sending questions in all directions about this new Nation Alfred had seen. Yao had panicked, wondering just how America had managed to find out about Japan, but he quickly discovered he couldn't be wasting his time worrying about such things. Matters had already spun largely out of his control. Everyone knew about Japan and that Yao was keeping him to himself.

At first, Yao had defended himself with his word that he had been taking care of Japan and assisting his growth. Even if that had been good enough for some to nod their heads, it still didn't explain why Yao still had Japan with him now. Everyone wanted to know what Yao's intentions were; whether he wanted to colonise Japan, whether he wanted an alliance or what. When was he going to send Japan out to the world and stop hiding him?

China had been unable to answer any of these queries. Unfortunately, Yao's avoidance of issues concerning Japan had lead to unthinkable consequences. If China refused to be clear, someone else would have to be—other Nations began preying on the new Nation. First was Germany, interestingly. Much to Yao's relief, the German had approached Yao without hostility and with etiquette. Ludwig offered to negotiate within reason but Yao remained stubbornly reluctant however many times Germany nudged him with the matter. It was when a second Nation stepped into the queue which changed everything.

When Ivan had come up to Yao with his desire to 'take Japan', things were only bound to grow rough. Immediately, Ludwig had dropped all hope of winning Japan over as soon as he heard of Ivan's wishes. Although he regarded himself as a strong Nation, he still wasn't going to go into any unnecessary conflicts, especially with the infamous Russia. The same went for any other Nation who had been silently hoping to get hold of Japan.

This was how Yao managed to find himself facing Russia in a bloodthirsty battle every time they came across each other nowadays. The number of days that Yao would come home with fresh wounds was ever increasing. He could see no end to this dispute over Japan but Yao was determined to protect Kiku from anyone who even tried to lay eyes on him.

That night, China came home with his clothes in tatters yet again. The moment Yao twisted the knob of the door, it flew open to reveal Kiku who had been anxiously waiting for his return.

"What are you doing up-aru?" Yao asked, though he was fully aware of Kiku's reasons for being awake in the middle of the night. Recently, Kiku never slept before Yao came home. It was ever since Kiku had noticed Yao coming home constantly baring new injuries to his body.

"Yao-san," Japan said quietly, placing his hands on the taller man's arms, gently guiding him over the threshold. Without a fuss, Japan had China seated comfortably so he could tend to whatever wounds China had come home with tonight.

"Xie xie-aru," murmured Yao, watching how Kiku treated him with such care; spreading ointment over his scratched skin and wrapping bandages over weeping wounds. Yao smiled to himself, noting how Kiku had everything he needed already set upon the table, knowing Yao would undoubtedly come home injured again.

"Have I missed anywhere, Yao-san?" asked Kiku, finally looking up to meet Yao's eyes. The Chinese man shook his head, a warm smile assuring Kiku that he had nursed the wounds well. Kiku nodded, getting to his feet. "Then, I will bring some tea. And if you are hungry, there is some food I prepared earlier."

"Oh yes-aru, I am hungry. That would be wonderful," Yao said gratefully.

Nodding again, Japan hurried off to the kitchen, leaving Yao to gaze after him. This had become a regular routine for them—with Kiku caring for Yao's wounds which would be followed by some tea and a warm meal cooked by Kiku.

"Yao-san, here is the tea." Looking up, Yao saw a tray being lowered onto the table and a porcelain teacup was placed in front of him. "And I hope these dishes will suffice. I'm sorry."

On the tray was a bowl of dumpling soup, some pickles and in a larger, deep dish lay slices of raw fish on a bed of rice. Looking across to the Japanese man, Yao saw he was holding a huo long guo, busily peeling its skin away from the flesh.

"I thought you might like some for dessert," Kiku explained, noticing Yao gazing at him. "We could share it?"

Smiling, Yao nodded. He took a sip of the tea Kiku had prepared for him, letting the warm liquid slide down to his stomach. Then, he picked up his chopsticks to indulge in Kiku's cooking. At first, the idea of raw fish had horrified him, but now sashimi was one of his favourites.

"You don't ask me anymore, do you?" China commented suddenly, as he chewed on his food.

Raising an eyebrow, Kiku thought for a moment. "Ask you?"

"Mmm." Yao took another piece of fish between his chopsticks, slowing lifting it to his mouth. After he had chewed on it, slowly taking in its flavour, he swallowed. "You used to always ask me 'what happened to you?' or 'where did you get those injuries?'-aru."

"Ah…" Kiku lowered the fruit in his hands for a moment, his eyes showing a hint of sadness which could also be detected in his small smile. "Well, even if I ask, you always reply with the same answer."

"I guess you're right-aru." Yes, Yao had always given Kiku the same answer. He'd tell Kiku that it was nothing; he had been clumsy and fallen down the stairs, a strong wind had carried a stray branch in his direction, a child had accidently hit him with a ball…Yao was aware that he was lying to Kiku, but he could not allow Japan to find out about the truth. That would be cruel for him…or was it cruel for himself?

"Um, Yao-san, there's something I would like to ask…"

Yao snapped his eyes to look at Kiku. The smaller man had his head bowed, staring down at the fruit in his hands. The tone of Kiku's voice worried Yao slightly. Why did he sound so unsure, so scared?

"What is it-aru?" As though to hide his own uncertainty, Yao kept his voice bright as usual.

"I…" It appeared that Kiku was finding difficulty to continue, adding to the anticipation tingling in Yao's chest. Finally, Kiku heaved a sigh and mumbled something to himself. He then laid out the fruit which was now in perfect slices out on a dish. Kiku gave out a nervous chuckle. "I-I'm so sorry. I eh, forgot what I was going to say."

Silently, Yao observed Kiku pick up a piece of fruit between his delicate fingers—they were shaking. Although only with a tiny tremor which could easily be overlooked, Yao had still seen it.

"Yao-san?"

Kiku was staring at him because he had been staring at Kiku. Quickly turning back to his dinner, Yao made a point of taking huge mouthfuls of his food.

"Kiku, when did you learn how to make such good food-aru?" Yao said in an attempt to brighten the mood. He then set his chopsticks down, carefully placing the bowls to neatly fit onto the tray. "That was delicious-aru."

A faint blush rose to Kiku's cheeks. Unsure how to respond, he simply offered Yao some dessert which Yao accepted.

Biting down on the fleshy huo long guo, Yao's eyelids fell to cover his eyes midway. In his mouth spread a mellow sweetness, the crunchy seeds adding a nutty taste. Yes, he liked this very much.

Only if it didn't leave him with a lingering, sour taste afterwards.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**Translations**

**_Xie xie: _thank you. **

**_Huo long guo: _Dragon fruit/pitahaya **

**_Sashimi: _raw fish**

**NOTE: Hello! A late Happy Easter everyone! I hope you enjoyed Chapter II, thank you so much for taking your time to read it! Oh and I was so happy to read all the reviews! You are all really so kind to me! I _really_ look forward to the feedback you give me, always! **

**And, for anyone who might be interested, in regard to time setting in this fic, well I think the safest thing to say is that time periods are um, 'ignored' for this story. I'm sorry, I'm so lazy! Any references to history made in the future (if any) will probably be in no chronological order at all. Also, as always, I'm really sorry for any mistakes, typos, carelessness, etc. I am really such a lazy proof-reader! I know it myself and just can't seem to do anything about it (ehem! Of course I can, I'm just too lazy!). **

**So, again I hope you liked this chapter, and hopefully I'll see you again in the next one!**


	4. III

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**III.**

A hand reached out to the drapery, languidly peeling the heavy cloth back to let through a burst of sunshine. The brightness forced him to blink several times before his vision adjusted. Sitting up in the bed, he pulled the drapes back fully, flooding the room in the late-morning sun. Everything was peaceful; the butterflies flittering their colourful wings amongst the trees, the white clouds floating in the cerulean sky, tranquil notes of the wind chimes played by a gentle breeze drifting to his ears…What an auspicious start to the day.

Today, China had the day off. It would only be fair for the day to turn out in such a way that would compensate for all the added strain China had been put under lately. Alas, China would soon discover that the perfection the day had begun with would only slide out of line in gradual increments as the day progressed. But this still was unbeknownst to the Chinese man who let out a tired yawn.

Taking a comb which was set on the bedside table, Yao lazily drew it through his hair. "If Russia dares to knock at the door of my house again, I swear I'll not only get my wok but also my meat cleaver-aru," he mumbled irately, recalling an event from the previous evening.

Last night, China had an unexpected visitor come by—Russia. Ivan had come in pursuit of an answer from Yao regarding their unfinished business. This had enraged China beyond his limits, eventually resulting in one of his largest—and most painful—woks being brought out to do its deed. To China's relief, this had successfully sent the Russian away returning peace and quiet to the house again, just the way it should be in China's ideals. Nonetheless, Ivan's visit had not been just an idle one, Yao could not help but to think that there was something more to it. After all, he couldn't imagine that Ivan was so desperate that he would enter another Nation's territories uninvited. There was too much a risk in doing so, taking into account the harsh consequences one must face if trouble was caused in foreign lands without prior notification to the involved parties. Did it mean that Russia was _that _sure of himself—that he possessed that great a power that nothing scared him?

Feeling a shiver rake through him, China quickly dismissed the idea, tossing the comb back onto the tabletop. Rising from the bed, Yao dressed quickly and headed out of the room. On his way down the hallway to the kitchen, Yao noticed something. He had noted earlier that the house was quiet, however it seemed a little _too _quiet. Since it was his day off, China had opted to snatch a few more hours of sleep than usual, the reason for why he had risen so late. This meant he could easily expect Japan to be up and around the house already. So, where was the man in question?

The first thing Yao discovered as of entering the kitchen was that someone had cooked him some breakfast. It was neatly arranged on a tray, left on the kitchen table for him. So Japan _was_ awake, China thought to himself as he shuffled around the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Then the Japanese man must have gone outside for a walk or for training.

With a pot of dark pu'er tea, Yao seated himself for his meal. Everything on the tray was placed in cylindrical, wooden containers to preserve their heat. Lifting the lids of the containers, Yao found various items of food inside; pickles, fragrant rice and chicken wrapped in lotus-leaves, stuffed buns and pork stock soup. All of these dishes amongst many others, Yao had taught Kiku how to cook with care, taking years of patient guidance until Kiku had mastered the art to Yao's satisfaction. Every mouthful of the food brought back anecdotes and memories of times the two had spent together in the kitchen of this house. Kiku was indeed a good pupil; his one and only student, his dearest love, his perfect ju hua.

Alas, as Yao finished his breakfast and rose to wash the dishes, the particular man had still not returned from wherever he had disappeared to. Then again, when Japan was focused on something he was easily carried away and could lose track of time, which Yao assumed was probably the case.

As China finished placing the last of the eating utensils back in their places, he remembered that he had to retrieve some paperwork for an upcoming meeting. So he made his way to a room toward the back of the house. The room was dim, located in a shady area where the sun's rays hardly reached through the single window in the back of the room. But that was okay since the room was rarely entered, used only to store old books and files.

Striding to the centre where a pile of papers had been left out on a table, China gathered up the pieces he was after. His business done here, Yao was about to leave when something strange caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he had spotted something odd with one of the shelves of books lined against the walls. Taking a few steps toward the shelf, Yao bent over to look more closely. Yes, he had been right. Whereas all the books in the other shelves were coated in a heavy layer of dust—collected over many years of neglect—there was a small section where the dust had been cleanly shaken off the old, wrinkled spines. Had someone been in here?

Slipping one of the thick volumes out, Yao saw that the book contained his country's historical records. A quick glance across the shelf confirmed that all of the other books also on the same shelf all contained records of China's history. Yao stared at the book in his hand with puzzlement for a long moment before returning it to the shelf. There could only be one person who had access to these books—Kiku. But it wasn't like the Japanese man to touch Yao's things without asking for permission beforehand. Or could it be possible that he…

"What-aru?" China jumped, a loud crash in his moment of quiet thought startling him. The noise had come from the front of the house and Yao instantly recognised it to be the sound of the large, metal gates in the front garden. The papers in his hands dropping to the floor, China leapt out of the room and tore through the house, throwing open the front door to see what had made the sound.

For a moment, Yao could only see the gate swinging on its hinges, making a screeching sound with each swing. The gate had a habit of doing that when it wasn't closed properly. From there, Yao's eyes travelled down to the dirt path leading to the front door. He had not been prepared for what came into his field of vision, his eyes widening with shock. Only a metre or so from the gate was a man in a heap on the hard ground. Yao's entire body froze, his mind wiped clean of all thought.

The fallen man was Kiku.

"Kiku!" Yao let go of the doorknob he had been holding onto, rushing down the path to Kiku's side. Crouching down, Yao was shocked futher by the state he found Kiku in; his hair in a mess, the haoribarely hanging on his shoulders with rips in several places, his grey kimono covered in dark splotches where blood had dyed the material. Although his heart was pounding painfully against his chest, China swallowed down his shock for Kiku's sake and reached his hands out to the injured man. Gingerly lifting Japan into his arms, Yao secured his arms protectively around his back.

"Yao-san," a small voice rasped out in Yao's ear. Kiku's eyes were squeezed tightly together and pain was etched in every detail of his face.

Giving Kiku a soft kiss on his hair, Yao stood up with his arms still holding Kiku tightly. "Kiku, I'm here," he murmured softly back.

"I am…I am sorry," Kiku managed to say between choked breaths. Then, before he could say anything more, Kiku's strength withered and he fell unconscious in Yao's arms.

Frowning, Yao peered into Kiku's face, searching for answers. What was he apologising for? What had happened to him? Where had he been all morning? He looked so tired and also…sad. "Kiku…"

Heading straight to Japan's room, China lay him down on a rug and set to work. When China loosened the knots holding together the kimono Japan wore, the garment stuck to Japan's skin instead of sliding away from his body because of the amount of blood that had soaked into the kimono. Yao didn't want to be rough, but he had to take Kiku's kimono off to be able to see to the wounds, so as gently as possible Yao peeled away the clothing. What had been hidden from view until now was not a pretty sight, causing even Yao to recoil at the severity. By now, China had a fair idea of whose doing this was. His creeping suspicions seemed to strengthen when his hand brushed Kiku's skin which felt frighteningly icy to touch, much too cold when the room wasn't particularly chilly. Yao clenched his jaw, his hands trembling with pure hatred of the person who had dared to harm Kiku.

"Not now-aru," Yao told himself, turning his attention on the task at hand. He would worry about other things after Japan had been cared for.

Cleaning out the wounds, applying medication and bandaging all of Kiku's injuries had taken Yao some time and energy, but he had managed. A badly swollen arm worried Yao that Kiku might have broken a bone, but on further inspection the bone appeared to be intact but definitely not in best shape. But he had done everything he could for now, so China moved Japan onto a mattress, placing a warm blanket over Japan's still shaking form.

Sighing deeply, China ran his fingers through Japan's hair, tucking some stray locks behind his ear. Never had Yao seen the younger Nation in such a mess before. What was most frustrating about this was that Yao had no idea of how and when things had turned so ugly. Had he done something wrong? The more he thought about it, the more he placed the blame on himself. It was blatantly obvious that Russia was involved, but still if he'd just been more a little more careful maybe none of this would have happened…

The clock ticked on as China sat by Japan's bedside, waiting. When Kiku finally opened his eyes, the sun had sunk behind the mountains.

A soft clattering in his ears had woken Japan and when he opened his eyes he could make out the outlines of a shadow somewhere in front of him. In the next moment, the room glowed in orange and he realised the shadow was Yao who had been lighting the lamps in the room. Kiku simply stared for a moment at the man who had his back turned to him, and just as Yao stood, Kiku parted his lips.

"Yao-san."

A small gasp was heard from the Chinese man who quickly threw a hand over his mouth. Then, he twisted his body around to stare down upon the mattress. "K-Kiku, you're awake-aru."

"I did not mean to startle you, I'm sorry Yao-san," Kiku said quietly.

"That's not important-aru," Yao said, reseating himself beside Kiku. For a moment it looked like the colour had returned to Kiku's face but Yao quickly realised that it was only because of the flame of the lamp, flickering from within the lampshade. "Are you feeling oka—Wait, you shouldn't move Kiku!" His arm shooting out quickly, Yao wrapped it around Kiku's shoulders, catching him from his failed attempt of sitting up.

"I-I'm sorry," Japan stuttered, slumping into China's shoulder heavily. He winced, feeling the pain kicking in. As he took several deep breaths to distract his mind from the pain, Kiku saw that his kimono had been replaced with a cotton sleeping robe and his blood-stained skin had been cleaned and cared for. Raising his eyes to Yao's, Kiku thanked him for his kindness.

"What are you saying? It's not a problem-aru," Yao assured, recognising the apologetic look in Kiku's dark orbs. Then, Yao gently helped Kiku to sit up, allowing him to lean his weight onto his shoulder. "Anyway-aru. What happened to you Kiku?"

There was a moment of dead silence—short-lived but intense. "Nothing," Kiku finally said, his eyes looking in no particular direction. "Nothing."

An uncomfortable feeling wriggled inside Yao. The interaction between them, it was so familiar to him yet it felt so wrong. He was experiencing déjà vu, however their roles were switched; Yao the one asking what had happened and Kiku the one to answer with just a simple 'nothing'.

"What do you mean by nothing-aru?" Yao said, his voice terribly awkward for someone who was always so bold and confident in himself. His voice sounded stern, although he didn't wish to sound that way. "Something must have happened. What happened-aru?"

The only reaction China got out of Japan was a small shake of the head. Japan's eyebrows were knitted in despondency, his eyes lowered to the blankets on his knees. "It is nothing, please understand."

"But…" As Yao was about to protest, Kiku lifted his eyes to gaze directly into Yao's face. The look in those eyes spoke to Yao, telling him that he should understand since it was Yao who always responded to Kiku with those same words. Inside, Yao wanted so desperately to say that 'this was different', or 'this wasn't the same'. However, with horror China was hit with a realisation—How could he know, know that it wasn't any different?

"Yao-san, I must ask something of you," Kiku murmured in a strained manner, "please do not look into this. Please do not speak to anyone about this. Please…"

"Fine-aru." It had taken Yao some time to say it, but his decision was out; he would trust Kiku and respect his wishes. "But-aru, will you promise that something like this won't happen again?"

"Yes."

"Really-aru?" The confidence with which Japan had spoken his response surprised China slightly, not expecting Japan to give him such a straight answer, like he knew so without-a-doubt.

Giving China a firm nod, Japan lifted his right hand, extending his smallest finger. "I promise it will not happen again."

"Good-aru, but what's that Kiku?" Curiously, Yao gazed at Kiku's slender finger, stretching out from a fisted hand.

"It is called a pinkie promise. If we link our fingers—" Kiku entwined his finger with Yao's corresponding finger, "this shows that we have made a deal. If I break my promise to you, I will cut off this finger and swallow one thousand needles."

"What-aru?" Yao exclaimed. "Cut off your…A thousa…? Ah, alright-aru. I promise as well-aru."

Their interlocked fingers remained hovering in mid-air, silhouetted against the flame of the lamp. Then slowly Yao brought their hand toward his chest, pulling Kiku in close.

"A pinkie promise isn't enough-aru," Yao whispered, their faces almost touching. "I need a kiss to seal the vows."

In a soft, sweet, everlasting moment, their lips touched. Melting into each other, the two kissed deeply, passionately—losing themselves in the swelling waves of love. However, Yao had not been able to notice how much the one in his arms was aching; not only from the wounds he carried but also from a deep throbbing from deep within his heart.

A single, doleful tear slid down his cheek, so transparent and silent that it was completely unnoticed by the other man.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**NOTE: Hello! Did you enjoy this chapter? Also, I don't think there were any terms that I should translate? If there's anything, just let me know! **

**Well, I wasn't expecting this chapter to take so long to write. The scene was originally just going to be a very short one, but then it somehow turned into this! **

**Thank you so much for your reviews! Thank you, thank you! Oh and I think I understand what I wanted to say before about the AU thing. This fic is AU, but the idea of the characters being personifications of countries is used—which is why I kinda thought it wasn't AU. I was a confused person. And thank you 'Obsessed-Language-Freak' for clearing up on one of my (many) mistakes! It's always helpful to know these subtle differences, nuance is very important! **

**Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter! Please leave any comments you might have, I really do appreciate your reviews! **

A bientot!


	5. IV

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**IV.**

With the self-discipline China possessed, he had restrained himself from delving into the recent incident regarding the attack on Japan. He would keep his word he had made to Kiku. Nonetheless, not a moment passed when Yao could not rid himself of the urge to seek out Kiku's offender and make sure they would forever regret the wrongdoings they had committed. But he desperately suppressed those compulsions to the pits of his mind. And although he managed to act his normal self in front of Kiku—even through the days when Kiku's bloodied bandages would need frequent replacement, acting as a stabbing reminder to both of them of the incident—Yao could not completely ignore the discomfiting feelings constantly niggling at his chest. His strong desire to find out the truth collided with the feelings of trust and respect he had for Kiku. The conflicting thoughts within his own head were creating too much dissonance. What frightened the Chinese man most was his awareness that he might have doubted in Japan, even for just a moment. Yao feared so deeply that a part of him was not able to trust his dear Kiku, thinking that there must be something behind Kiku's secretive behaviour. It pained him and he fought and fought against it—repeating to himself like he would his Buddhist sutras—how ridiculous an idea it was to hold any suspicions of his true love…

Rolling over for the umpteenth time that night, China thrust his blankets to the side in frustration. All these thoughts, swimming around and around endlessly inside his head like sardines in a circular bowl, they were preventing him from sleeping. The more effort he put into sleeping by closing his eyes and laying still inside his bed, the more his mind seemed to grow active. Deciding that this was no good, Yao dragged himself off the mattress, defeated. Some fresh air and a little taijiquan would help his body and mind to relax, Yao thought to himself as he slowly made his way to the garden.

He slid open the rattly, wooden door leading to the garden, stepping out into the moonlit midnight air. China began walking down the dirt path, his eyes gazing upon a tall crape myrtle, a cool blue hue adding a sheen to its' mottled bark in the night. There wasn't a single breeze blowing and the air was neither too hot nor too cold, such ideal conditions for light exercise.

The dirt path was rounded slightly to curve around the myrtle and continued toward a set of stairs which lead down to the main garden. China had just turned the corner and was heading for the stairs when his feet faltered, eyes blinking. Peeking out from the ledge of the first step was the top of a someone's head. China continued walking until he had a clear view of the figure who had taken a seat midway down the case of stone steps. Under the full view of a round moon—showered in its luminescence—was Kiku, staring straight into the huge globe floating in the sky above.

Swiftly descending the stairs, China lowered himself beside Japan. So rapt in thought, Kiku had failed to notice Yao's presence which was extremely uncharacteristic of the usually conscientious Nation.

"Kiku?" Yao said gently, reaching out a hand to Kiku's arm. The moment the ends of Yao's fingers brushed the fabric of Kiku's haori, the Japanese man jumped, suddenly made aware of the company he now had.

"Yao-san?" Kiku gasped, his cheeks tinted roseate from a creeping blush. Kiku gave Yao a small bow, a hand brought to his chest. "I-I'm sorry, I did not see you o-or hear you coming I—"

Seeing Japan in his flustered state made China laugh. "Kiku, it's okay-aru. I couldn't sleep so I came out to get some fresh air. Then, I found you out here too-aru."

"Ah, I see." Japan nodded, regaining his composure.

"Aah, the moon is very beautiful tonight-aru," China said, his eyes lifting to the night sky. "So round and bright-aru."

"Yes, indeed," agreed Kiku, pointing his eyes in the same direction as where Yao was looking. Many a night had they stayed awake late into the evening like this, gazing upon the moon together side-by-side. Sometimes sharing a pot of tea and sweet rice cakes; other times singing verses of poetry; other times simply leaning their bodies close, embracing one another, bathing in the moonlight.

Turning his head to face Japan, Yao asked, "So, what are your plans now-aru?"

As though he was shocked to be asked such a question, Kiku's breath hitched, his eyes which were still staring at the moon blinking. "I, eh…"

Unsure why Kiku was reacting in this way, Yao thought he might have not worded his question well. He had meant to ask Kiku what his plans were now, specifically—Whether he was going to stay here a little longer, if he was thinking of going back inside, if he wanted to join Yao in taijiquan…But before Yao could clarify what he had meant to say, Kiku opened his mouth.

"Well, I would like to grow stronger," Kiku said solemnly, surprising Yao with his hard words and equally hard facial expression. Lowering his eyes to his hands, Kiku breathed in deeply. "If or when the time calls, I am prepared to make whatever sacrifices I must. I am prepared to fight."

A dense wall of silence rose between the two. China could not comprehend what Japan's words conveyed. But the look he saw in Japan's eyes were not anything like what China was used to seeing in the younger Nation. Why had Kiku uttered such sinister words? There was no need for Kiku to think like about such matters—he was there to protect Kiku, he was there to keep Kiku safe from anything that threatened him.

"W-what are you saying Kiku?" Yao chuckled nervously. "That frown on your face doesn't suit you at all-aru! You can forget about anything that's worrying you-aru, I'm here for you!" China then looked Kiku straight in the eyes, holding his gaze desperately. "Right-aru, Kiku?"

Something close to grief passed over Kiku's face for a fleeting moment. China waited for his reply alas, Japan would not say yes.

"Right-aru?" Yao repeated, a trace of desperation leaking into his voice. Something was stirring inside his heart, something Yao could not quite figure out but he felt a need to hear Kiku's answer. To hear Kiku say 'yes', that was all he needed. "Kiku?"

As though to wrench apart two polar ends of a magnet, Japan tore his eyes away from Yao's strong gaze. With his eyes turned back to the moon, Kiku gave a tiny nod and nothing else.

Yao never found out if that nod was a nod of agreement or a nod of apology.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

Not too long after the night spent under the moon an earth-shattering occurrence was unravelled. On this day, everything was sprung on China much too quickly for him to understand that none of what was to happen would be a mere nightmare but would be the waking reality.

The sun was low in the sky as China walked through the front gates to his home after another long day's work. A cold, biting wind was causing his muscles to tense and Yao squeezed his arms to his sides as he hurried to the front entrance, eager to get inside to the warmth of the house. He was almost at the door when a crunching of feet on the dirt path alerted him of somebody behind him.

"Yao-san."

Immediately turning himself around to face in the direction of gates again, Yao came eye-to-eye with the Japanese man who had spoken to him. The first thing that struck China was that Japan was not wearing his usual simple clothing but was garbed in a more formal kimono with a billowing hakama worn over the top. The wind was blowing his dark hair into his eyes, the skirts of his hakama also catching in the wind.

"Kiku, I didn't see you there-aru," China stated. He was aware of an ominous air, pressing heavily down onto his shoulders, so before anything could happen Yao hurriedly extended a hand toward the knob of the front door. "Come on, let's go inside."

"Yao-san, please wait a moment." Kiku's voice rung out, the urgency in his pleas unable to go ignored by the Chinese man. China grudgingly dropped his hand to his side. "There is something I must say, Yao-san."

"Okay-aru," Yao said slowly. A short distance remained between the two as they spoke and it bothered Yao that Kiku would not move closer to him. "What is it?"

"I want to thank you for everything you have done for me," began Kiku, "you may never know the extent of my profound gratitude I have toward you—"

"Stop it Kiku," Yao cut in, his light manner incoherent with Kiku's seriousness.

"—However," Kiku interjected strongly, "from now, I would like to claim independence."

China's eyes widened, his jaw slackening in complete bafflement of the confounding situation. Even if he were to be given a thousand moons, China could not have been prepared to hear the words that had fallen out of Japan's mouth. He wanted independence which meant…separation? What would become of him without Kiku and of Kiku without him? Yao was the sky and Kiku the sea. Together, they needed nothing—all they needed was each other. They loved each other, didn't they?

"Independence-aru?" Yao echoed as though in hopes of Kiku to correct himself—to say he had made a mistake in his words. A meek bow was all it took to erase Yao of his vain hopes. "What do you mean then?"

"I wish to vacate from your home and to no longer be under your care," Kiku replied stiffly. "Will you accept my proposal?"

China stared at Japan in disbelief. He could not believe that Japan truly meant what he was saying but China knew—he knew that Japan was serious. Suddenly, Kiku's words from the other evening crossed Yao's mind; how he had told of his wishes to grow stronger and to fight. Had that been a warning to Yao of his intentions to claim independence? Now that he thought about it, the reason why Kiku had been searching through his historical records was most probably to gather information so he could silently prepare for this day. But why was Japan so eager to leave him? What compelled him to take such measures?

"No, I don't," Yao eventually said with a shake of his head. "Do you really know yourself of what you are asking for-aru?"

"Yes I—"

"_No, _you don't." China raised his voice, not allowing the other man to slip even a word in. "You don't know. You can't. Reading may give you the false feeling of understanding but you have no idea Kiku."

"No, please I—"

Yet again, Yao cut Kiku short with distressed aggression. "It means you have no-one, _no-one_! You are alone and sometimes you do not even recognise yourself anymore. Do you understand what I'm saying Kiku? Just don't do this. I won't allow you-aru."

A rough gust of wind arose, leaves skittering across the ground around them. A strained breath escaped Japan's lips, a hand moving to wrap around the hilt of his sheathed sword. Japan bit his lip before speaking, his voice hoarse. "Yao-san, I am serious. I-If you cannot accept my pleadings then I will have to turn to alternative options."

The sound of a sword slowly sliding out of its casing was heard. Japan now stood, gripping his sword, its length in direct alignment to point straight at China.

"Kiku," breathed Yao. The air between them was so very tense. Inside, Yao wanted Kiku to just stop, to drop this and they could forget that anything ever happened. He also wanted to tear his eyes away from Japan, not wanting to look at the determination burning in those eyes, but he could not. As he gazed more deeply into Kiku face, for a fleeting moment an image of Kiku's face in his childhood when they had first met flashed in Yao's eyes—the small, helpless Nation calling out to him…After a long moment, Yao shook the image from his mind and took a firm stance.

"Can you even raise that sword to me-aru?" China murmured quietly, observing how Japan did not move. "You cannot. If you cannot do even that then you know nothing of independence-aru."

Taking a moment for the words to sink in, Japan's eyes lifted to meet Yao's. "What if…"

"What if _what_-aru?" This was all too much, he had had enough. There was nothing more China had left to say to Japan. So, spinning on his heel, Yao turned his back to Kiku to face the door again.

His mind was so cluttered that all he seemed capable of doing at this moment was being angry at Japan, which he knew was not ideal. He needed to cool down.

China was busying himself with unlocking the door when all of a sudden, he felt a presence come up right behind him. The next moment cold steel made contact with his left shoulder. A sharp blade dug into his skin without a trace of hesitation in its force. The blade made a clean swipe, tearing through cloth, skin and flesh.

"Yao-san, I'm sorry."

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**NOTES: **

**Pinkie promise/Yubikiri: **I'm sorry, this note should have been in the previous chapter and I completely forgot about it until I read **'ShinDragonX's' **review. _Yubikiri_ is the word for pinkie-promise in Japanese and it literally translates to 'cut finger'. When people (especially children) make a _yubikiri_ promise, they link their pinkies together and sing a small poem which goes: _yubikiri genman, uso tsuitara hari senbon nomasu. Yubikitta._ A very basic translation of this is; _'keep your word or else cut your finger, be fisted and drink a thousand needles.'_. So, that's why Kiku said he will cut off his finger and drink a thousand needles if he broke his promise to Yao in the last chapter. Yes, it would sound very extreme without this explanation, so thank you **ShinDragonX **for your comment and I'm really sorry I forgot to write this! I suspect this _yubikiri_ has also some links to _yubitsume_ which is where _yakuza _(Japanese mafia) must cut the tip of their left pinkie off and give it as a token of apology to their boss in the case they have been disloyal in any way to their clan. Oh dear, lots of happy (gross) images there…

**So, hi! I hope I didn't make you wait too long for this chapter, it took me a little longer to write than I expected it to. But I hope it turned out okay and that you were able to enjoy it! Oh, and I think you know already but parts of the scene under the moon was taken from the Hetalia anime, episode 16. I must say I just love this pair too much!**

**Thank you for reading this chapter and another thank you to those who leave me your lovely reviews! Again, if anything confuses you please let me know! I'm sorry I keep forgetting to add important information like I did last time!**

**Well, I'm already counting down to Golden Week (public holidays!). Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day! **


	6. V  Fragmentations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**V. _- Fragmentations -_**

The small island whereupon he chose to build his home was a much more humble and modest place compared to the great mass of land he had been brought up on. But that was not to say that this place was no less beautiful or alluring. In fact, this tiny island was enchanting and he was instantly connected to its ground, as though he had trodden upon its soil for centuries already.

The blue faces of the rising mountains gave him solace, as though they also wept with him. The smell of the salt in the sea breeze cleansed his sores and wounds although it made him grit his teeth with its ruthlessness. But when the pain became too much to bear, he could shelter beneath the broad branches of the cherry blossom tree and lean against the thick trunk, protected and consoled.

He loved this home—_his _home. Alas, he knew not what to do with himself. He was far too broken on the inside to look to the outside.

Confined within his reclusive shell, long years simply stretched on, spent in mourning. Season after season passed him by in complete solitude. He clearly understood the impropriety of his self-pity and his seemingly endless grieving—he knew he had a Nation to nurture and expand. Yet he just could not surface from the ocean of sorrow. He had waded in too deep.

The way the man stood in amongst a forest of Japanese Maples, lost in the canvas of autumnal hues, one would never doubt that this man—wrapped in an aura of quiescence—was at peace of mind. His features were externally void of emotion but only because all of his struggles were buried under the skin, hidden deep into his heart.

As the reddened leaves descended haphazardly to the ground adding fresh layers to the soft, crimson carpet, Kiku was reliving the unfading memories of his past…

A red leaf landed upon Kiku's open palm. Ah yes, the skin of the huo long guo they had shared that night had been the same rich, red…

_Kiku turned the old, dusty pages of the heavy book which lay open over his knees. His eyes rapidly flew across the lines of handwritten traditional Chinese characters which were framed in the yellowed edges of the page. As he read, he absorbed every detail from the sea of knowledge written there; of culture, religion, diplomacy, politics—of Nations. _

_He had first opened the thick cover of China's books in hopes of finding a clue to why China was coming home so beaten, and more importantly why China refused to give him any explanations of why. Initially, Kiku had told himself that if China did not want him to know then it was none of his business to meddle into the matter. But he also thought that possibly Yao was unaware that he needed help, or maybe Yao was unable to tell Kiku even if he wanted to. So, with knowing that his secretive ways were not anything to be proud of, Kiku's hesitant search to uncover the truth had begun. And that had eventually brought him to these books he found in the small room at the back of the house. _

_However, what he found in those pages was much more than he had initially expected he would discover. _

_It introduced him to the Nations of the world. Yes, being a Nation himself, he had an inbuilt knowledge, like human instinct, that made him aware of what a Nation is and of their existence. And Yao had sometimes touched on the topic before but only ever briefly. But what he was reading gave him detailed information. And with knowledge always came questions. _

_Kiku had somehow known that his relationship with Yao was not a simple one. These feelings intensified as he learned of alliances, colonisation and invasions; Nations growing close was a very delicate, complicated issue. Relationships like theirs, one that exists purely out of love alone without any political ties attached, was most complex. And with unease, Kiku slowly realised that Yao was essentially hiding him, keeping him from partaking in the world. And even if this was unintentional—even if Yao did not mean badly—it was still the truth. _

_But just because he had found out, did it mean that he wanted to change that? _

_Shuddering, Kiku immediately closed the book he was reading. No, he would never want for anything to change between himself and Yao, ever. But he was painfully aware that under the pressures of the Nations, it was extremely unwise to continue this life he and Yao lead. Without a distinct clarification of their political relationship, they placed themselves under high risks. No one knew what could happen tomorrow and the reality of being a Nation was that ambiguity meant instability. _

_Clearing his mind, Japan brought his mind back to the main problem at hand. He sighed; again he had not found any clear facts which had to do with Yao's injuries. Then suddenly, Japan heard a distant clank of the front gates alerting him of China's return. Quickly replacing the book and getting to his feet, Japan eagerly rushed to the front entrance to greet his lover. _

"_What are you doing up-aru?" _

"_Yao-san." Japan was not surprised to see the older Nation bleeding and bruised. How could he possibly sleep knowing that China would be in pain? He wouldn't let the caring man come home to a quiet house, he would make sure it was always warm and welcoming. _

_So, Kiku brought Yao inside to treat the injuries. Once that was taken care of, he served China's favourite tea and some dinner he had ready in the kitchen. _

"_Um, Yao-san, there's something I would like to ask…" Keeping his eyes on his hands which were peeling the red skin of a huo long guo, Kiku had finally decided to divulge in Yao about his concerns of their relationship. The older Nation may have some wisdom to offer him. Maybe they could work through the knots to make things smooth again. _

"_What is it-aru?"_

"_I…" That kind voice alone made Kiku's throat squeeze tightly with uncertainty. He did not want to hurt China, not in the slightest way. But, what he wanted to talk about was such a touchy matter and there was a chance that even China—so strong and caring—might take badly to it. No, he couldn't risk upsetting China. He could not risk putting a crack in their relationship could he? _

"_I-I'm so sorry. I eh, forgot what I was going to say."_

_Kiku sliced the last piece of fruit. There on the plate now lay the meticulously sliced pieces of huo long guo. The way he arranged them on the plate was so simple, so perfect. Why then could he not arrange his feelings in such a simple, perfect way? _

Another leaf floated down onto Kiku's soft palm—this time it was yellow. Ah yes, the colour of the moon they had gazed upon that night had been the same placid yellow…

_Again, Kiku had been in that room poring over the old Chinese volumes all day while Yao was out. It was only until an irritating tingling began prickling at his legs that Kiku realised just how long he had been reading for. Slipping the book in his hands back onto the shelf with a sigh, Kiku glanced out of the small window to find the sun was already coming down. Kiku got to his feet; Yao might be retuning soon and he still hadn't picked the herbs from the garden that he hoped to use for garnishing the evening meal. _

_As Kiku made his way out of the room and down the hallway, the sound of some people talking reached his ears. When had Yao come home?_ _Kiku wondered, immediately recognizing one of the voices belonged to China. The voices were coming from the front entrance and just as Kiku was about to turn the corner to see who their visitor was, there was an angry shout and Kiku instinctively held back, pressing himself against the wall where he could not be seen. _

"_Get out-aru!"_

"_I can hear you perfectly well without you having to shout China."_

"_I'm shouting because you don't seem to be listening to what I say! Now, get out!" _

"_Won't you even let me inside?"_

"_What do you think?"_

"_Okay then, aren't you even going to ask why I came all the way? You do know how much of a hassle it is don't you?"_

"_I'm not going to let you anywhere near Japan. Now _get out_!"_

_From his dark niche, Kiku blinked, shocked to hear his name raised. _

"_Won't you even let me see him?"_

"_Of course not-aru! Just go away Russia. I'm not going to change my mind."_

"_Come on China."_

"_No-aru."_

"_China."_

"_No."_

"_Yao."_

"_No!"_

_To Kiku's dismay, this to-and-fro continued for a good length of time. Kiku had been less than impressed to begin with but gradually began feeling a mild admiration building of the way neither grew bored of their bickering. Eventually, Yao's wok had put an end to the fight. _

_For Kiku, this strange occurrence made little sense to him. However, he was able to gain something important from it. He had discovered that _he _was somehow involved in some unknown complications between Yao and Russia. He was familiar with the Russian albeit only from what he had read about the Nation. But that was more than enough for Kiku. Finally he had some solid evidence to work from. _

_The next day, in the early hours of the morning, Kiku slipped out of China's home to venture into Russian territories. It did not take Kiku long to find who he was looking for. The Russian had been waiting for him._

"_Well, it seems like I have a guest. You must be Japan."_

"_Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Russia-san," Kiku replied. He was able to keep his voice steady although inwardly he trembled under Russia's cold stare. "I have come bearing questions."_

"_Oh?" Russia's lips twitched, his smile broadening. "What could they be?"_

_Kiku nodded. "Firstly, am I correct in my assumption that you have been harming China-san?"_

"_Indeed," Russia replied simply. "You are an interesting boy. No wonder Yao likes you so much."_

_Trying not to let Russia's words distract him, Kiku proceeded. "Whatever for?"_

"_China hasn't told you anything has he," Russia said. "We are fighting over who should possess _you_, Japan."_

_Japan narrowed his eyes. "Possess me?" _

"_Da. Don't you see how he is oppressing you? I want to take you away from China so you can become one with me. In other words, it's a good idea to well, broaden your horizons shall we say?" Russia explained. "But Yao is a stubborn man and won't agree. That is why I must resort to a more…forceful alternative." _

"_I am not sure why you are interested in me," Japan said, "but I must ask you to stop hurting China-san. Please."_

"_Does that mean you will leave China?" asked Ivan._

"_I…" Kiku swallowed. "I need time."_

_A deep hum sounded from the back of Russia's throat, reverberating into Kiku's chest. "Well I suppose I can give you some time if that is what you need in order to leave him. But what will you give me in order to settle this deal? Time is valuable…and expensive. I do expect a reasonable payment here."_

_Japan closed his eyes. Very slowly he bent his knees until they touched the hard ground, then he bowed his torso forward, his forehead pressed to the ground. _

_Russia silently observed the way the Japanese man folded himself down at his feet. Something similar to excitement sparked in the large Nation's eyes as he took a step forward. _

"_Does this mean I can do what I like with you?" Russia murmured. He then lifted his heavy boot and ground its heel into Japan's skull patronizingly. "I must say you are a young Nation but a smart one. I'm thrilled that I can finally do as I please with you, Japan."_

_Japan squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the pain and he clenched his jaw to stop a cry from escaping. He felt the boot being removed and a gloved hand wrap around the back of his neck, roughly yanking his torso into the air. From there, Japan was treated like a ragdoll enduring every fierce blow the Russian sent his way. There was no way of telling how long this brutality continued, his mind simply focused on detachment from his physical self—the only way he could keep his sanity intact. _

"_I do believe this has been useful not only as payment but also as a fair warning to you if you do not keep your word," Ivan hissed into Japan's face, the pale skin besplattered with blood. "You must come to me after you have terminated your relationship with China. But do not worry, I will also keep my word. I promise I will not touch China until then."_

_Those were the last words Russia spoke, leaving Kiku in a mangled heap; torn, bruised and broken. He himself never understood how he had managed to get himself back to China's home. However, he remembered clearly the relief that had overcome him when he had finally pushed through the front gates of China's home. He had lost all strength and had collapsed to the gravel. By the time the sound of the front door bursting open and Yao's approaching footsteps had reached his ears, his mind was already clouding over, his vision fading. _

_When he felt Yao's protective arms around him, Kiku had thought the worst of the pain was behind him. But later he found out he was terribly mistaken. An incomparable pain was plunged deep into his core that evening when he and Yao had shared a loving kiss. The bitter irony seemed to cackle with pity as Kiku writhed in excruciating agony. _

_He could no longer live in the moment—he was already living in the future. As his own hands held tightly onto Yao, he could already feel the older Nation slipping away. As he felt those soft lips touch his own, he almost fell apart, feeling as though his insides were being ripped to shreds. _

_He could not stop the tear that fell from the corner of his eye. The happiness and joy Yao gave him tormented him since he knew that it would not last for much longer. _

_In Kiku's heart, this kiss was a kiss of farewell._

_Unable to confide in anyone of his helpless situation, Japan suffered in solitude. The only source of solace he could find was high in the sky as he sat upon the steps in the yard gazing up at the round, placid moon. With the moon, Japan was able to share the ache of the evanescence of his and Yao's intimacy. Under the moon, he prayed and prayed for forgiveness; overwhelmed with guilt for what he was about to do to China, for not being able to tell China the truth, for being the cause of such a burden to China for so long…_

"_Kiku?"_

_He suddenly felt a hand on his arm, startling him out of his reverie. Glancing to his right, Kiku saw Yao seated there giving him a warm smile. He had been so lost in thought that he had not noticed China coming. He apologized for his absence of awareness and with a chuckle, Yao told him that he had come out for some fresh air. _

"_The moon is very beautiful tonight-aru. So round and bright-aru," China was saying. _

_Indeed, the moon was beautiful. Again, Kiku felt a strong ache in his heart when he thought of how many more evenings he could spend with Yao like this under the moon. Not many, not many at all. Tonight may even be their last. The very thought was unbearable. He still could not believe that he had agreed to leave China even if it was to relieve China of his burden. He knew it sounded childlike but he simply did not want to._

"_So, what are your plans now-aru?"_

_Japan gasped, feeling as though China had seen right through him, as though he had been reading Japan's mind. Suddenly Japan felt insecurity building inside of him as he felt China's strong gaze on him. He began to imagine how China would react to what he was planning to do—He would be upset, angry, irate, betrayed…and somewhere inside himself, Kiku hoped that Yao would be saddened. _

"_I would like to grow stronger. If or when the time calls, I am prepared to make whatever sacrifices I must. I am prepared to fight." _

_Japan was not entirely sure why he had said this out loud. Was it possibly a vow to China? An apology? No, behind those words lay his final display of dependence; it was the last time he would allow himself to show weakness in front of China. _

"_W-what are you saying Kiku? That frown on your face doesn't suit you at all-aru! You can forget about anything that's worrying you-aru, I'm here for you! Right-aru, Kiku?" _

_No, he could not forget. China did not understand, China did not know. Soon, very soon, the string that tied them together would be sliced. And he would be the one to slice it. _

"_Right-aru?"_

_China's words sunk heavily into Kiku's chest but he was grateful for each and every one of them. _

"_Kiku?"_

_Japan turned his eyes back to the moon. Finally he realized the most important thing. However much hatred China may hold against him, he would accept that. Even if Yao could not forgive him, he would accept it. As long as someday his apology would reach Yao, that was all Kiku asked for. _

_He would forever love Yao, that was what mattered the most to him._

A third leaf floated down onto Kiku's waiting palm—this time a deep crimson. Ah yes, the sky they had stood beneath on that day had been dyed the same blood red…

_A tear glided down from his eyelashes and descended into the vase, causing a tiny ripple as it fell into the water within. Pressing his palms against the rounded surface of the porcelain vase, Japan inhaled a deep breath. This vase was his best piece, one he had taken care in crafting; from shaping, kilning to painting. The chrysanthemums painted on the outside he hoped would be a reminder of him. A sad smile ghosted over Japan's lips as he recalled the way China would beam with pleasure as he gazed upon Japan's painting of the chrysanthemums. _

_With shaking hands, Japan gathered the flowers he had picked and arranged them to sit elegantly in the porcelain vessel. These glistening hydrangeas held an underlying message and Kiku could only hope that Yao would be able to find it. Long ago when Japan was still young, China had told him many stories and amongst them were the messages flowers carried. Hydrangeas symbolised gratitude, enlightenment and love, Yao had imparted to him. Because Japan could not thank China or tell him how much he truly loved him directly, he hoped the flowers would be his loyal messengers…_

"_Yao-san." _

_The two men stared deep into each other's eyes._

"_Kiku, I didn't see you there-aru. Come on, let's go inside-aru."_

_Japan bit his lip. He assumed there would never again come a day when he would walk through that door into China's home. _

"_Yao-san, please wait a moment. There is something I must say."_

_As China listened to him speak, Japan felt as though he was growing numb inside. His voice held no emotion as he thanked China. The words were dry with no feeling to them and it was not how he wanted it to be. Alas, if he let his emotions surface, he would not be able to hold himself together. He would not be able to go through with his plans. He just wanted it to be all over with. _

"_I would like to claim independence."_

_There, it was out. _

"_Independeence-aru?"_

_The disbelief and hurt in China's voice stung Japan's ears. He could not bear to look at Yao and he was grateful when the glare from the sunset obstructed his vision. The strong rays emitted from sinking sun coloured the sky in an ominous, blood red. _

_The outburst that followed did not surprise Japan. He had been prepared for Yao to decline his proposal of independence. He knew Yao too well to _not _expect the fountain of admonishing words that came from Yao's mouth. This also meant that Japan had known that he probably would have to take measures that he really did not wish to. He would have to draw his sword. _

_And that he did. _

"_Can you even raise that sword to me-aru? You cannot. If you cannot do even that then you know nothing of independence-aru." _

_No, he did not want to hurt Yao. It was the last thing he would ever wish to do. And indeed, his arms felt like stones which would not move. _

_Just when he thought he could not do it, a memory crossed Japan's mind. It was Yao's voice telling him that there was only one thing he needed when he held a sword in his hands—to be true to oneself, to have one solid mind and he needn't have anything else._

"_What if…" What if it is the right choice? Yes, this was something he had to do, something he himself had chosen to do. _

"_Because I love you."_

_Red splashed to the ground, smeared his sword and covered his hands. _

"_Yao-san, I'm sorry." _

The first place Japan headed after leaving China was to Russia. He stood before the tall man, his sword held tightly in his palms. The Russian quickly figured that Japan had not come in peace; that Japan would not surrender himself to Russia, not without at least a struggle. More than happily Ivan had taken the confrontation without a doubt that he would come out of the fight unharmed.

But Russia had been terribly wrong. Against all the odds, Japan had been the one to claim victory. On his previous encounter with Russia, Japan had determined Russia's techniques and weaknesses. The Russian energy was heavily Yang and possessed little Ying. Once he knew this, it was easy for Japan to use the knowledge to his advantage. While Ivan used all his force and strength, Kiku used that force as ammunition. Even if he was a small Nation in comparison, all he needed was to harmonise with Russia's energy—his qi—using it as a pivotal energy to send the large Nation to the ground.

If he could not be with China, he would be with no-one.

And thus Japan went into seclusion, refusing to leave the comforts of his own home. His victory over Russia meant little to him since it would not bring China back. In the big picture, Russia had gotten his way and he had lost.

Curling his fingers over the three leaves in his hands, Japan closed his eyes. He could hear a bush warbler's gentle song drifting throughout the forest. He liked the skirling of this bird but even though he could hear the beautiful trilling, he could never see it. He could not touch it.

And so Japan lamented his naivety; cursing his lack of power and his youthful stupidity. Only if he had been stronger and wiser he could have done something differently, he could have protected China. But Japan did not know that he had been manipulated; moved like a doll would do when its master pulled its strings.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**NOTE: (Sorry for reuploading this chapter.) **

**Wow I'm so glad I finished this chapter! It's kind of like an interlude-ish chapter, it has a very different style compared to the previous chapters. I'm sorry I went a little overboard with the imagery in Kiku's soliloquy. I hope it wasn't too long and boring for you. Thank you for bearing with me!**

**Thank you for all of your reviews! I think I would have given up on this chapter if it wasn't for your input and lovely comments! **

**Oh and I don't think I did a very good job of writing the fight between Russia and Japan. I may have rushed it a little but I didn't want that part to be too lengthy. If you know anything about Aikido (or other martial arts) I think it would make sense with the energies of _Ying_, _Yang _and _Qi_. I really love Aikido, being a small person myself I never thought I'd stand a chance against anyone, but the laws of Aikido enables pretty much anyone to throw people around as they please no matter the size or strength. Sorry, I'm getting side-tracked!**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you have a loooovely day! **


	7. VI

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**VI.**

_Snow. Small, white flakes, soft to the touch, the innocence in their pearlescent glow luringly elusive. As though like feathers they glide lightly down the spiralling slopes on their descent from a seemingly endless sky down to the earth below, entrancing the souls of any observer._

_Their playfulness, as they gather on the ground, redolent of a long lost, happy childhood. _

"Run!"

Tearing blindly through the savage blizzard, he could only pray that he would not fall behind. The sound of staggered, laboured breaths of the other, catching in the wild winds was his only assurance—the very source compelling him to keep moving despite having long before reached his physical limits.

Strong gales were thrust fiercely at him; one moment threatening to throw him backward then suddenly pushing him from behind in the next. His mind was slipping sporadically into moments of unconsciousness; flashes of white pervading his senses while he mustered every last drop of energy left in him to rid himself of them. Alas…

"Ger…many…Mi dispiace…"

An apology. A confession of his withering willpower, of his intention to surrender himself to the snow, and in turn, abandon the man of the same name he had just uttered. His feet slowed and almost came to a complete halt when—

"Italy."

His hand was grasped firmly, the familiarity of the touch warm even through the thick material of their gloves. Ordinarily, only the prospect of dining on exquisite Italian cuisine with an equally exquisite young lady to share the meal with would have motivated him to put himself through any kind of tiring physical exertion. However, this time it was an assuring tug of his hand that spurred him on through the dark blizzard.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

A forest of trees covered in brightly coloured, healthy leaves stood all around. The screeches and songs of creatures inhabiting the surroundings echoed into the sky as earthy scents wafted in the moist air. Two pairs of boots tracked over dampened soil at a consistent, rhythmic pace.

"Well isn't it great? We made it through the blizzard!"

A tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed German nodded with a grunt of acknowledgement, the man keeping his eyes set straight ahead of him.

"Ludwig, where are we going? Ludwig, do you think this is edible? Ludwig, don't you miss the others yet? I do. Ludwig, why are we all by ourselves? Ludwig—"

"Feliciano, why don't you ever _pay attention_?" Exhaling deeply, Germany shook his head muttering a quick 'mein Gott' under his breath. Then, before his Italian companion could spring anymore questions on him, he proceeded, "The others are with Russia—"

"Why?"

"—Let me finish, Italy!" Ludwig chided. "They are with Russia because they are cowards, _idiots_."

"Oh…"

While Italy slowed, dispirited, Germany walked on unaffected, leaving Italy a pace behind to stare sadly into his back. Germany's arms were crossed and shoulders were slightly raised, a sign of how tense he really was if the hardest jaw and creased forehead wasn't a sound enough indication of this.

Germany was not pleased. He was angry. If serving under Russia was what America, France, England and China wanted, then so be it. But so long as they remained a part of this positively preposterous arrangement, in the name of a 'alliance', none of them would be given any sympathy or mercy—at least, not from him. He could not comprehend why anybody would want to participate in such absurdity. And if there was one person whom he could not bear to see fall into such a cruel fate, it was…

"Ludwig, is it time for a siesta yet?"

It was this lazy, whiny, airhead.

Turning sharply to face the Italian, Germany almost roared out of frustration. "No Italy, we can't take a siesta! Can't you see where we are for Gott's sake?"

With a nervous laugh and a precautionary step back, Feliciano darted his eyes over their surroundings. "Um, no…W-Where are we exactly?"

"Italy, _I don't know!_ That's exactly the problem," was Germany's stern reply. "If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in this forest, I suggest we keep moving. And _quietly_ if that's actually possible in your case."

Gruffly, Ludwig resumed his endeavour to get them out of the forest. With his march-like gait, Germany's boots hit the ground with heavy, forced stomps. Again, Feliciano was faced with Germany's back and he frowned. Before the distance between them could grow too large, Feliciano jogged forward, throwing an arm out to clasp a hand around a crooked elbow. This effectively took the other by surprise, causing him to falter in his tracks, much to Italy's relief.

Sliding his hand from Germany's elbow down to wrap around his coarse palm, Italy gave the German a gentle squeeze. "I know you're worried Ludwig but we can't go on without taking any rest."

Whether it was out of his utterly fatigued mind, inducing a state of irrational judgement, or if it was the compassionate strength with which he was lead by the hand to a shady refuge, Germany had for some reason allowed himself to do as Italy desired.

For this short time, Germany let himself relax.

"But Ludwig, don't be so angry at Big Brother Francis too," Italy was saying. He had found some soft grass to lay himself down on, his arms splayed carelessly on either side of him, his eyes wondering up into the clouds floating in the azure sky engrossed in the task of tracing faces and creatures in the puffs of white. "Big Brother Francis didn't want to follow Russia."

"I know, I know." Ludwig had his back leant against a thick tree trunk; his hair in a mess having had taken off his Schirmmütze_, _and his stiff jacket discarded on the ground by his feet (albeit folded neatly of course). His face looked pleasantly drowsy, completely losing all the tautness that had cramped his features for days. As for Francis, inside he knew very well how much the Frenchman had tried to avoid any unnecessary conflict. The man had gone as far as to join efforts with England and that action spoke for a great number of things neither Francis nor Arthur had wanted to voice. Nevertheless, in the end both France and England had been weak, their resistance ultimately fizzling to subordination.

"Ludwig?"

"Hm?"

Italy's head rolled to the side, his eyes peering up to look over at Germany's sidelong face. "Aren't you scared?"

Germany blinked. He hadn't considered any such thing before. Circumstances were things one simply dealt with, and emotions were suppressed in a similar fashion. But why was it that whenever he was in the presence of this man that those feelings somehow found themselves bobbing to the surface?

"Italy, it's okay," Germany said eventually using a soft tone. A tiny smile crept to his lips. "If things work out, we won't be alone."

Just as Ludwig had presumed, Italy jumped up with curiosity lit in his confused eyes. "B-but all the others joined Russia. Didn't they?"

Standing up, Ludwig stretched his muscles, fixing his cap back onto his head and throwing his jacket over his shoulders. He motioned to Feliciano for him to also get up—that it was time to go.

Jumping to his feet, Italy hastily followed after his companion. "Ludwig, what do you mean?"

"We're going to Japan." Germany declared as he took confident strides.

"Che cosa?"

"Japan," Ludwig repeated, pausing to let Feliciano catch up to him. "Supposing the rumours from all those years ago are true, then he's the Nation we're looking for."

The young, mysterious Nation who had beaten Russia single-handedly.

Italy's eyes widened, Germany's intentions sinking in. Then, an anxious look flickered in his eyes. "Germany, I thought China raised Japan."

Hearing Italy's statement, Germany gripped his sleeves, his eyes falling to the ground a short distance away. "Ja."

"But China and Russia…"

"Italy," Germany uttered quietly. "Just think about beating Russia for now. And for that we need help from Japan."

Seeing the way Feliciano opened his mouth to protest but then hold himself back made Ludwig bite his lip. He knew what was going through Feliciano's mind and he knew the Italian was right. But he was grateful Feliciano had refrained from voicing his thoughts out loud because somehow that made it easier on him. And he hated himself for feeling that way.

But it was this man, with his big heart and kind nature who he wanted to have by his side.

The one that he would protect.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

Kiku endlessly berated himself, for what else could he do about the unthinkable choice he was about to make? His head was heavy in the palms of his hands and a long sigh found its way passed his lips, as though he were heaving out all the air from his entire being. Why was he going to do this?—He truly had not a clue. But if anything was for certain, it was that his life was going to take a drastic transformation, one he could never erase.

This transformation began with two men sitting in his living room, and to Japan's sheer horror, they had entered his humble home without removing their boots. Unfortunately, Japan had been too shocked to advise his guests otherwise and also feared to anger them by being impolite in any way. If these men were as barbaric as to trail dirt all over the tatami mats of another person's home, then he could only dread what they would do if something were to displease them.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah, y-yes. So I shall press my seal here?"

"Ja, that's right."

As though it were a dream, Japan stared at his own red seal, pressed cleanly onto the white page. Above his seal were Italy's and Germany's signatures. The three Nations were now comrades.

Wearily, Kiku glanced between the two men seated on either side of the low table. Neither of them assumed a seiza position—the mannerly way to seat oneself. Kiku was able to recognise both Ludwig and Feliciano from pictures of them he had seen back in Yao's house, but it had been a long time since he had come face to face with a foreigner. In fact, he had not seen any since his fight with Russia. To be honest, these men were quite intimidating. They were just, very big compared to himself.

Luckily though, there were some comforting traits Japan saw in the two men. Japan felt this especially with Germany, immediately having detected a genteel properness about the man at the moment of meeting him. This instant connection had most likely been the reason why Kiku had even considered to listen to what the intruders had to say to him. Otherwise he would have done everything in his power to drive them off his shores.

And Italy. Judging by first impressions, Kiku was honestly worried for how things might turn out between them. The man was simply unpredictable. But somewhere inside, he could sense something similar between Italy and himself. This notion was strengthened when the Italian expressed admiration of all the artwork that was displayed around Japan's house. Sharing a taste for art had to be a good starting point.

"Japan, I'm sorry for jumping straight to the point," Germany apologised, "but could you show me some of your weaponry? You see, we don't have a lot of time."

"Of course." Kiku stood, leaving the room for only a few moments before returning again and laying something proudly across the table.

Immediately, Feliciano leant forward as soon as he saw what Kiku had placed there, his eyes dancing. "Wow, look Ludwig! I remember using these! Well, not exactly _these_ but…"

Ludwig did not speak and this was a cause for panic on Kiku's part. Had he disappointed his new ally? Had he done something wrong?

"G-Germany-san?"

Germany took a moment to collect his thoughts, running a hand through his hair, all the while attempting to filter Italy's maundering out of his head. It had been a while since he had considered swords to be legitimate additions for infantry. Germany cleared his throat before speaking, keeping in mind to remain composed.

"Do you have any missiles? O-or maybe rifles or grenades or machine guns…" The blank expression in the Asian's face gave Germany enough information to answer his question. Then before producing his own gun and laying it on the table next to Japan's sword, Germany asked, "Japan, have you ever used a gun before? Or, have you ever _seen _a gun?"

Japan now realised that there was still a long road ahead.

_Slowly but surely, white spreads over vast land, greed overtaking. It smothers whatever inferiorities lie beneath, deftly sealing the edges. As its weight crushes mercilessly and its iciness chills to the bone, innocent smiles still remain in its discordant pure appearance. Snow…_

**::O:::O:::O:::O::**

**Translations **

**Mi dispiace: '**I'm sorry' in Italian.

**Schirmmütze****: **Peaked cap worn as part of the German military uniform during WWII (I think, I'm not at all positive).

**Che Cosa: **'what' in Italian.

**Seiza: **A kneeling position with legs folded underneath the body.

**NOTE: **

**Hello, um, I hope somebody remembers this fic? Because it's been so long since my last update. And I'm really, really sorry about the delay! I am _so_ sorry! And I can't thank you enough if you're still reading! Thank you so much! It means a lot to me! **

**I hadn't written a lot of Germany or Italy until now, so I had some fun experimenting with them in this chapter. I'm not sure how well this chapter turned out to be but I just hope you enjoyed it! **

**Thank you again for reading and please leave me a review! **

**Tschüß!**


	8. VII

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. **

**Because I Love You**

**VII.**

There was the swing of a door followed by thumps of shoes on the rugs lain across the flooring, then the creak of the hinges on the door as it swung back into its place. What a rude person; to enter as they pleased without so much as a knock of warning. Fleetingly, he considered getting out of the bed to greet said rude person who had entered the room but he chose otherwise, deciding they could wait—he needed a moment to properly wake up, and anyway, causing a little irritation for his guest wasn't so much an issue as it was a pleasure. In any case, his body truly did feel terribly heavy and sore, mind still in a haze from consecutive nights of shallow sleep.

Finally, he cracked his eyes open. The dull ceiling of the dim room came into view, thick drapes still drawn to help keep the room insulated through the wintry weather. Sluggishly, he reached a hand out, feeling around blindly until the tips of his fingers touched something smooth and rounded. Then, as though some invisible strings attached to him were pulling him upward, his back lifted off the mattress to hunch forward, blankets sliding from his shoulders to heap over his bent knees. Still paying no heed to his guest, he began tending to a more pressing task of preparing the pipe he held between his fingers. Though in truth, it did not take a lot of mental effort on his part anymore as practiced hands moved on their own having learnt the motions from countless repetition. He brought the pipe to his lips, a thick plume of smoke rising into the dark room.

He could feel eyes staring at him…Patronising him.

"So you're still smoking that stuff, eh?"

He took his time to taste the drug before taking the pipe away, exhaling deeply. "And whose fault was it in the first place…ahen."

Slowly, he shifted his eyes to send a venomous look to the man who was leaning against the doorframe who had his hands deep in his pockets. He was answered with a wry chuckle.

"I just put it on the table. Yao,_ you_ took it."

The Chinese man scoffed, snapping his eyes away sharply, bringing the pipe to his lips again. The fingers gripping the pipe tightened involuntarily. Yes, he was addicted despite having had fought with the evil thing for years—with all his being. But it just kept coming back to haunt him, no matter how many times he had managed to convince himself to stay away. Yes, just like how _he _always came back and cast that same spell over him time and time again…Why did he find himself plummeting to that same, dark place? Why did he have to wake up to find himself once again smoking this evil drug, in this dark room—_his_ room—hopelessly intoxicated under that ghastly, formidable curse?

"What are you doing here-aru?"

"I know what _you_ were doing here."

For a second time, China gave the Briton a deathly glare. "That was uncalled for-aru. If you don't have a reason for being here other than to disturb my peace, just get out."

"Now, now China…" Casually switching on a lamp, Arthur moved to seat himself in an authentic armchair made of oak with an arched back, an expanse of neo-Grecian inspired patterns carved meticulously into the wood of the frame of the chair. "I came with a reason."

"A good one?"

"…Yes," England replied, keeping his eyes on an embroidered screen standing against the wall opposite to him, the lamplight causing mystical shadows to cast across the artwork, obscuring its aeisthetic eloquence. "Well, since I'm such a 'disturbance' to your 'peace', I'll get straight to the point. Why are you doing this?"

What had been a less than nice tension between the two now escalated into something completely uncomfortable. China gently lowered his pipe, laying it aside awkwardly. "What are you going on about-aru?" he asked clumsily.

"Why are you cooperating with him?" Arthur posed, this time with an added edge to his voice, a hint of exasperation evident within the cold tone. "Why did you help him to start all of this? I'm sure you're clearly aware of what'll happen if this all blows out of hand—which it will…already has even. China, it can turn into a full-fledged world war, it—"

"If you came just to _preach_, get out."

Pushing his palms down into the axe-shaped arms of the chair, Arthur levered himself forward to close the distance between them. He looked straight into the eyes of the man sitting in the bed although the other refused to return the gaze. "Look, I just want to know _why_."

"Get out."

"Yao…"

"You wouldn't understand even if say I were to tell you," Yao said bluntly. "Get out."

A long moment stretched on in heavy silence until eventually, Arthur stood, turning toward the door in defeat. "Fine."

All China could do was stare apathetically after England on his way to show himself out of the room. Then, just as the Briton's pale fingers grazed the bronze knob of the door, China's voice resonated in the room, cutting the frigid air.

"He promised me."

Immediately, England's hand dropped away from the doorknob to his side and he turned to look over his shoulder. "What?"

"He promised me," China iterated.

"I mean, what are you talking about?" England clarified, taking an eager step back into the room again, sensing the Asian nation's sudden change of manner.

Hands falling weakly to his knees, eyelids drooping over weary eyes, China shook his head—Apparently, it was he who was the one in defeat. The burden he beared was already weighing heavily down onto his back and grew only heavier as time passed; China just did not feel 'himself' anymore. And a dire need to somehow allay all of this suddenly overtook him. What could possibly go wrong if he confided in Arthur anyway? It wouldn't hurt to find out, surely.

A strained sigh escaped Yao's lungs, a sense of humiliation already gnawing his stomach. "He told me that if I go back to…to _be_ with him again, that he would—"

Without warning the door opened abruptly, cutting China off, leaving his words to hang precariously in the still air threatening to fall and shatter. Eyes—both dark and green alike—swivelled in widened shock toward the man who stood boldly in the doorway.

"Hello. What were you two doing in my room? Can I join in?"

Yao steps off the bed, his uncombed hair falling in disarray over his shoulders as he crosses the room with haste, pushing passed Arthur.

"Good morning Yao."

"Good morning-aru, Russia."

::O:::O:::O:::O::

"Where is Italy!" Germany bellowed. He was in utter disbelief due to the third member of their team—The Axis—was in fact nowhere in sight. And it was in the German's own right to be losing his temper because they were indeed only moments away from opening fire to the enemy.

Though in the least of things, it was somewhat of a relief his other member was responsible and reliable, Germany thought. Or was he too quick to conclude that? And unfortunately, it was in the next moment when he turned to face his comrade from the East that he learnt he most certainly was too quick to judge.

"J-Japan!" Germany stuttered, his jaw dropping. "W-Why do you have _that_?" He was in a state of horror, unsure whether he should really believe what he was seeing. "Didn't I make it clear to you that you can't possibly think of using that thing?"

"Germany-san, I am sorry." That was all Japan offered the shock stricken soldier before he lowered his gaze to the glistening blade nestled between both his palms.

For Japan, today would mark a crucial breakthrough in his life. After all, he was making his debut; marching into his first, grand-scale war. And for this, he wanted, no, he _needed _to wield his sword. Despite the fact that he was now completely comfortable with a gun—and was a more than accomplished marksman after the hellish training he had suffered and survived—the only weapon he would have was his sword. There was no other weapon more appropriate for this day's battle; to pay respect to the man who had given him not only the skill for fighting but had also taught him the meaning of it. And somehow he thought that Yao would watch over him. He knew it was arrogant of himself to think such a thing; that Yao might still care about him, a traitor, even now after what he had done all those years ago…Japan made a silent vow he would not let Yao down.

"Germany! Japan!" Italy's voice sailed from somewhere behind. He hurried to his post, out of breath. "I'm sorry I'm late!"

"Italy, thank Gott…" Germany sighed with relief. However, his relief was short-lived. With shoulders pulled back and sharpness in his eyes, Germany murmured, "Here they come."

"_Fire!_"

The moment Japan raised his eyes they met with a powerful, strong gaze he knew all too well. The earth trembled beneath his feet.

Not for one moment had he anticipated that Yao would really be watching him…Alas from the frontlines of their one enemy.

The Allied Forces.

::O:::O:::O:::O::

**NOTE: Hello! How's your day? I'm having quite a productive morning; cleaned the house, submitted an essay (of horror) and oh look, I've uploaded chapter 7! **

**I'd really like to thank you all for still reading this fic after my long absence. And thank you so much for reviewing as well! **

**As for this chapter, I'm sorry it's a little short. I don't think it needs any extra notes or translations but of course, please let me know if I've missed anything or if there's something you'd like to know! And oh yes, I think you've realised but I've thrown in several historical references. I'm having fun with kind of parallel ideas, so historical events might occur in slightly different contexts etc (eg. Japan still in isolation when the Axis alignment was formed). **

**I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! **

**Merci!**


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